


Don't You Think You'll Be Better Off (Without Me Tied Around Your Neck)

by Lilsciencequeen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because Is It A FitzSimmons Fic Without Miscommunication?, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, Miscommunication, One Night Stands, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Recovery, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/pseuds/Lilsciencequeen
Summary: After a one night stand leaves her pregnant, Jemma returns home after being disavowed from S.H.I.E.L.D., leaving those she loves and cares about behind, thinking its best for them, including the father of the child. As it turns out, she's not the only one to make the trip to Sheffield.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was just supposed to be a short thing of Jemma getting pregnant sometime after Maveth and has spiralled into a recovery fic... I don't know how. Thanks for checking out, title from To Belong by Daughter.

She groaned, rubbing at her face. This was the third morning she had spent over the toilet, throwing up. At first, she had hoped it was food poisoning, that she had eaten something that hadn’t agreed with her. The second morning she had her fears but now, now she knew. This wasn’t food poisoning or a stomach bug.

No, she was pregnant.

And morning sickness wasn’t the first thing that should have given it away. She had been experiencing the tell-tale signs for a number of weeks now: she was more tired than she usually was, sleeping later and going to bed earlier; she was more emotional, crying at whatever film the team had decided to watch during the bi-weekly film nights on base; she was running to the bathroom more and more, especially at night; and what really should have given it away… she missed her period.

At the time, she had put it down to stress. That she simply missed it due to being overworked. Mace had been making her work more and more, trying to find Inhumans and bring them to safety before the Watchdogs found them.

But it wasn’t because of that.

She was pregnant.

About seven and a half weeks if her maths was correct.

She leaned back against the wall, groaning again. If she knew, then S.H.I.E.L.D. would also know soon, and she knew what that would mean.

Being disavowed.

She had broken so many protocols, would be in so much trouble.

And she wasn’t sure why, maybe it was the hormones, but she didn’t care. Not anymore.

She was going to be a mother by the end of the year, she would be having a child and staying here, staying with S.H.I.E.L.D., it wasn’t safe, it wasn’t a life that she wanted for her child.

She didn’t want her child to grow up in this world, where danger lurked around every corner. Not where they would spend most of their time locked in an underground base, unable to experience the childhood that every child should experience. Fitz would also agree, Fitz would want that for his child.

Fitz…

It was his child, of course it was his child. There was no one else who could be the father…

***

_7 and a half weeks ago_

_She watched as his chest rose and fell again, gentle in sleep and she tried to ignore the guilt that twisted her insides. They had slept together, spent the night together._

_And they shouldn’t have._

_They were still rebuilding their friendship, it had only been a number of weeks since Fitz had gone back to Maveth with Ward, since Ward and the telekinetic tortured her, since Will had died._

_It was taking time, but they were getting there, taking slow steps in the hopes of rebuilding their relationship into what it had once been (and maybe something more than that). But now they had slept together, and Jemma feared that she had ruined it, ruined everything._

_They had been staying over-night at a hotel, before returning to base the next day, and everyone had gone down to the bar except Jemma. She hadn’t wanted to go down, preferring to stay in the room alone. Daisy had offered to stay with her, to keep her company but Jemma had shaken her head, telling her not to worry, that she was fine. That she just needed some time alone and that seemed to make Daisy understand. Daisy had offered her a smile before leaving the biochemist’s room, closing the door behind her._

_Jemma breathed a sigh of relief and removed herself from the nest she had made on the bed, and walked over to the windows and looked outside; the sun has set and something about that caused her to shift uncomfortably in her skin. She sighed again, closing the curtains and returned to her bed, burrowing under the blankets. She wanted to sleep, she really did, but sleep wasn’t something that came easy to her anymore, not after all she had suffered so she reached for the television remote instead and watched the first thing that she saw; an ancient soap opera. She only paid it the slightest bit of attention, her mind wondering, lingering on the horrors she had suffered, trying to process them._

_It was just after ten that there was a knock on her door. Fitz. Of course it was him. There was a fluttering sensation in her stomach and she remove herself from the bed once again, and opened the door. She found him standing there, a box of pizza in his hand. “Daisy said you wanted some alone time, and you never ate at dinner. It thought we could have pizza and maybe find a crappy film to watch like the…”_

_“Like the Academy,” Jemma finished, smiling at him. “I would love that Fitz.” She moved to the side, allowing him to enter. “Thank you. For everything.”_

_He shrugged as if it were nothing.  “It’s fine, you would do the same. You **have** done the same.” He offered her a smile and set the box down on her bed. He pulled back the blankets and crawled under them before patting the bed beside her. “Coming?” he asked and Jemma hesitated. She wanted to, she really wanted to. But she nervous to. “Jemma?” he asked this time. “You okay?”_

_She hesitated. Then took a step forward. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” She then made her way back to the bed and climbed in next to Fitz, curling up next to him. “I don’t know… I don’t know what’s on tonight… I’ve not had a chance to look.”_

_“That’s okay,” Fitz told her, reaching for the remote. “We’ll find something.”_

_And they did, it was a rom-com, something that Fitz thought would be most appropriate for them. It seemed to be the case, with Jemma smiling and laughing at the jokes, something that she rarely did now and it was nice, it was pleasant to see her like this._

_As the film progressed, it was evident that the two scientists were paying more attention to each other than the film. At one point, Jemma was so lost in thought whilst staring at him that she didn’t hear him ask her something._

_“Jems? Are you okay?”_

_Once she took in his words, she nodded. “Yeah, yeah I am okay.” She sighed. Because she wasn’t not really. Her emotions were in turmoil. She wanted him here, she wanted him here more than anything, but he shouldn’t be here. She didn’t deserve him, not after everything she had done, all the hurt and pain she had caused him._

_“Jemma?” he asked again, concern heavy and evident in his voice. “Jemma, what’s wrong?” He brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ears, such an intimate gesture and he was so close to her, so very close to her, his lips only inches from Jemma that before either of them really knew what was happening, they were kissing, tender, and gentle and full of love._

_She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers interlocking with each other. His hands were around her waist, gentle but yet firm, showing he was there for her._

_Breaking apart for a moment, their foreheads touching, Jemma closed her eyes, a single tear escaped her. She felt him wipe it away._

_“I love you,” she whispered, feeling the concoction of emotions consume her from within. “I love you.”_

_He lifted his head from hers, placing a kiss on her forehead. “I love you too.”_

_He tilted his head down to kiss her again, but it wasn’t soft and gentle this time. No, it was one of passion, and soon he was doting kisses along her collarbone, Jemma having taken off her top._

_Fitz pulled away once he fully realised what was happening._

_“Are you sure?” he asked, looking her in the eyes._

_She nodded, without hesitating._

_“Yes, Fitz. Yes. I want this… I want this more than anything.”_

***

They hadn’t talked about it the morning after, Jemma had slipped from the room before he had even awoken and went to breakfast. They hadn’t talked about it during the rest of the day, or in the seven and a half weeks that had elapsed since. It was one of the nights, it seemed, that would have been forgotten to time had the condom not broken.

But it hadn’t impacted their friendship in anyway at all, which Jemma had found odd. They were still friends, maybe not as close as they had once been, still tiptoeing around each other, worried, but that wasn’t the fault of the one night, no that was the result of all the traumas they had experienced over the past number of years.

And now, now she was scared she had ruined everything. He was happy here, he had friends here, people he loved and people who loved him. She couldn’t take him away from that. She had harmed enough. She wasn’t going to do that again.

She was just about to stand up when she heard a knock at the door.

“Dr. Simmons.” It was Burrows, one of Mace’s men, one of his personal guard who seemed to follow him in there. “Are you in there? Director Mace would like to see you in his office.”

Despite everything, Jemma rolled her eyes and managed to call back. “Yes, yes I am. I’ll be out in a moment, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll pass that on,” the other agent replied, and then there was silence. He must have gone back to the Director. Jemma shook her head. A new Director, that was just one of the many new changes that had occurred while she was away. And it was one she was still getting used to, the fact that it was Coulson who was no longer in control.

But that was life, she supposed as she reached for a face cloth, dampening it with warm water and wiping at her face, making sure to get rid of any bile that may still be clinging to her face. That was life; she had left Earth, and lived in a different galaxy, and there was nothing she could do to change that.

She dried her face, and turned off the light in the bathroom, before exiting and heading down the corridor, ready to face whatever it was that Mace had in store for her.

***

“Jemma,” he greeted as she entered the room. He was being nice, far too nice. Jemma found it odd, and it scared her slightly.

“Sir,” she replied, taking the seat opposite him that he was gesturing too. “Is everything alright?”

He gave a heavy sigh. “We’ve been reviewing your annual physical results.”

 _Ahhh,_ Jemma thought. _That._ She had been too caught up in the fact that she was pregnant that she had forgotten last week they had occured. “Is there a problem, Sir?” she asked, hoping to put this off as long as she could.

“Jemma,” a voice said. It was soft, and it wasn’t Mace’s. Jemma looked to where it was coming from. May. She and Coulson were standing in the corner, watching it all. “We know the results, and we know that you know. You’re pregnant.”

Jemma looked down, and wrapped her arm somewhat protectively around herself. She knew there was no bump there, and there wouldn’t be for a number of weeks, but she knew what would be happening every stage of the way, and she found herself already very protective of the embryo that was growing in her.

“Jemma,” came May’s voice, soft and protective. The older agent pushed of the wall and made her way towards Jemma. She knelt down beside Jemma, placing a reassuring hand on the woman’s knee. Jemma looked up, her eyes hooded. “We want to help you. We want to make sure you’re okay. We want what’s best for you.”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice so low only May could hear it. “Yes, I am pregnant.”

“Have you done a test?” Coulson asked, still in the corner.

She turned her head to look at him, and shook her head. “No not yet, but all the symptoms are there; missed period, morning sickness, increased trips to the bathroom…” she trailed off. She took a breath in through her nose, and slowly let it out. “But I am.”

She dropped her head again, taking in everything, processing the fact that she was pregnant, that in just over thirty weeks, she would be giving birth. “I’m pregnant,” she repeated, looking at May again. “I’m pregnant.”

May gave her leg a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll work it out.”

“Melinda,” Mace said. He was trying to keep his voice calm and gentle but it was hiding something. And everyone knew it. May’s face shot round to face the Director. “You know what needs to happen next.”

“I do,” Jemma spoke up, speaking for the agent instead. “I know what happens next.”

“Jemma, you don’t have to, not if you don’t want to. We can let you stay here.” Still with this Coulson remained in the corner, knowing that Jemma was still uncomfortable with a number of people crowding her. “We can help you.”

“Phil,” Mace said, speaking the other agent’s name and his tone sounded exhausted, as if this were a debate that he didn’t want to be having. “You know we can’t let her stay here. It’s against the rules.”

“Jeffrey, we don’t exist, not legally. Disavowing Jemma, we don’t need to do it.”

“She can’t stay here, Phil, we know that. We can’t have a baby on base, it’s too dangerous! And we can’t have one rule for one agent and another for another agent. I know you show favouritism to your team but that’s not the Director I am Phil.”

“Sir,” Jemma spoke again, turning her attention to Coulson. “It’s okay. I know what happens. And I’ve already made my decision. I want to leave, I need to leave that. I understand, Coulson. I can’t raise my child here… It’s too dangerous.” She sighed. “I want them to be happy.”

Coulson nodded his understanding, and May gave a reassuring squeeze.

“And the father?” Mace asked. He looked between all three other agents in the room. “Do we know who he is?”

Coulson and May stared at each other, a conversation flitting between them in the silence. Mace knew of the friendship that existed between Jemma and Fitz, but he didn’t know how deep it was, the extend of it. Jemma hadn’t yet said who the father was, but there was no need. They knew it was Fitz. There was no one else it could be.

Jemma shook her head. “No, he doesn’t know that I’m pregnant.”

“So he’s an agent?” Mace pressed.

Jemma nodded this time. “He is.”

“Do you have a name?”

She swallowed hard. She didn’t want to throw him in the deep end, get him in trouble. She should remain silent, not say anything. Not say his name. She didn’t want to get him in trouble, she _couldn’t_ get him in trouble.

Mace gave a resigned sigh. “It was Agent Fitz, wasn’t it?”

She continued to remain silent but the hair on the back of her neck stood up and a burning sensation spread across her cheeks. A blush. She just knew it, which meant she had given it away. “Please don’t tell him. Please.” She hated how pathetic she sounded in that moment, when she was pleading, when she was begging.

“Why?”

“He’s happy here, he’s rebuilding his life. I can’t ruin that. Not again. Not now. I’ll take my punishment. I’ll leave, cease contact with the team. Just please… don’t let this affect him.”

She was crying now, tears streaming down her face, and May rose from her position and wrapped her arms around Jemma. Jemma allowed herself to sink into the woman’s embrace, watching as Mace processed what had happened and what the best course of action would be. Eventually he sighed. “Very well Agent Simmons.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank. And one last thing… don’t let the team, the base, anyone know. Please.”

Mace nodded. “Noted.”

***

She left S.H.I.E.L.D. that day, packing what few possessions that she had into a suitcase. It was then, taking the pictures off the wall, of her and Fitz, of her and Daisy, of the team, that the reality of everything sunk in.

She would be leaving all this behind, her friends, the people she loved, the people she cared about. And she wouldn’t be able to talk to them again.

Shaking her head, she tried to rid her mind of those thoughts. She was doing this because it was the right thing to do, she wasn’t going to hold them back. Not anymore. She had held them back for so long, caused them so much pain… and now she wouldn’t.

Now they would be able to become who they were meant to be. Now they would be happy.

And she… she would return home. And maybe once her child was born, she would find her own apartment.

It wasn’t that she was unhappy. She was happy.

She had always wanted children but she had never thought it was going to be like this. But she was happy. She was more than happy.

She zipped up her suitcase and stood up, wrapping her arms around herself, protecting her child from everything and anything that might try and hurt it. She whispered a silent vow, a promise to protect her child.

She took one last look around her bunk, at all the memories it held, some amazing and some… some she would rather forget. She sighed, and reached for the handle of her suitcase, and pulled it out of her room.

Standing at the door, before closing it, she took one last look around it, the walls bare and the drawers empty, then she closed the door and made her way down the empty corridors (something Mace had done to insisted on to make sure that no one caught on to the fact that she had been disavowed and was leaving S.H.I.E.L.D.), and to the hangar, where she was meeting May, who was taking her home.

***

May watched the younger agent as she sat in one of the seats in the hold of the Quinn Jet, reading something on a tablet. She looked so small, so out of place.

She had gone through so much in the past number of months, had suffered so much and May couldn’t help but blame herself.

She was the one who had invited Jemma onto the Bus, had invited Jemma to join their team

She was the one who hadn’t known that Ward was Hydra.

She had failed the girl so many times but she wasn’t going to, not again.

“Jemma,” she said, breaking the silence that had formed between them. Jemma looked up and May took her in for the first time that day, took her in probably. Her skin was pale, and dark bags hung under her eyes. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I won’t be alone,” Jemma replied, her gaze dropping back to her tablet. “I’ll have my parents.”

May took another step closer. “That’s not want I meant.”

Jemma shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She knew what May was talking about, she just didn’t want to admit it.

“Jemma, you don’t. Fitz, Daisy, Bobbi, they would want to help. They wouldn’t want to see you do this to yourself, isolate yourself.”

“But I can’t go back May, you heard what Mace said. I broke the rules, I’m accepting my punishment. And after all I’ve done to Fitz, he deserves someone better than me. Someone who won’t hurt him like I’ve done. And if you’ll excuse me,” she said, biting back emotion and holding back tears. “I would like to return to my article.”

May nodded, knowing that she wouldn’t get through to the girl, not with how she was currently acting. She knew that Jemma was still trying to process all she had been through in the past year, that she was trying to keep the pain and the guilt and the hurt to herself, not wanting to burden anyone. And neither she nor Coulson could do anything about it, not when Mace had agreed with Jemma.

Which reminded her, she was going to have a strongly worded conversation with Mace when she got back to base.

***

Rupert and Adelle Simmons hadn’t seen their daughter in a number of years now, but they had been in contact with her, that much they were glad of. There were times, however, where they didn’t hear from their daughter for months at a time. They tried not to worry, but they couldn’t help it, they were her parents after all. When they didn’t hear from her, they couldn’t help but worry that something was wrong. Call it parent’s intuition, but they always thought something was wrong when they didn’t get that phone call.

Normally, she called once a week, to say that she was okay, to say she was alive. If that weren’t possible, she emailed but that wasn’t as reassuring to them, emails could be faked, written by someone else, they didn’t convey emotion.

The last time that Jemma had phoned was before Christmas, and she seemed off. Her tone was distant, as if she had other things on her mind. It was hard to get conversation from her, and when they answered her questions about what was wrong, what had happened, she tried to avoid the questions. They eventually stopped, knowing they would get nothing from her. That was the type of person Jemma was, not wanting to burden anyone with her worries and anxieties.

It was a late spring evening when Rupert brought his wife a mug of tea that there was a knock on the door. They both looked up, staring at each other.

“Expecting anyone?” he asked and his wife, looking up from her magazine. Adelle shook her head, and Rupert set both mugs down on the coffee table and walked towards the door, his wife not far behind him. He lifted the keys from the dish and unlocked the front door.

When he opened it, he didn’t expect what he saw standing there.

Or more accurately, who was standing there.

Jemma, with a suitcase, standing there at their front door.

She gave them an uneasy smile.

“Hi.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re pregnant?” her father asked again, staring in shock at his daughter.

She nodded, reaching for her mug of tea and taking a small sip. “I am. About seven and a half weeks now.”  She offered them a smile but her father could see right through it.

“Jemma,” he said softly. He knew Jemma was keeping secrets, not telling them something. But he also didn’t want to pressure her into answering because he knew if he did, if he did try and force her to speak and open up when she wasn’t ready, she wouldn’t. She would do the opposite, she would retreat into herself, not telling anyone what was on her mind, not telling anyone what was worrying her, and that was the last thing that he wanted. “What’s wrong sweetie, you can tell us. You know that, right? You can tell us.”

Jemma remained silent for a moment, her gaze flickering between her mother and her father, before dropping altogether. She set her mug of tea back down, bringing her hands to rest in lap. But she couldn’t keep them still, and she automatically started to pick at one of her thumb nails. “I can’t go back,” she mumbled.

“What was that?” her mum asked. Adelle’s voice was laced with worry, heavy with concern.

“I can’t go back,” Jemma repeated and didn’t say anything else.

Adelle and Rupert exchanged a look. They knew their daughter worked for S.H.I.E.L.D., or had worked for them, but that was the height of it. They didn’t know what her job specifically entailed and sometimes they were glad of that. They didn’t want to know what Jemma did, what dangers she possibly faced.

But now it seemed, that Jemma had been forced to leave, and couldn’t return. And she was pregnant. It didn’t take someone with two doctorates to put the two together and work out that Jemma had been forced to leave _because_ she was pregnant.

“I can’t go back,” Jemma said for the third time, shocking her parents who were finally taking in the words, finally understanding just what was happening. Hurt was heavy in her voice, they knew how much her job meant to her, especially when she was able to help so many people, the one thing she had wanted to do in life.

She took a breath, as if to calm herself. “I was disavowed. I can’t work for them, not anymore. I’m sorry.”

It was at this point her father rose from his armchair and made his way to the sofa, where Jemma was sitting alone and sat beside her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in close. She sank into his embrace, allowing herself to be comforted. Tears started to make their way down her face, clinging to her lashes, and dropped down onto her jeans. He ran a reassuring hand up and down her arm, promising her it would be okay.

She wanted to believe him, she really did but at that moment, she couldn’t. She had ruined everything. It was all she seemed to be good at; ruining things. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice muffled by his shirt.

“Why?” he asked. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You don’t have to apologise.”

“I do,” she whispered. “I do. I ruined everything. I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Nonsense,” her dad said, pulling back and reaching for the box of tissues on the coffee table. He pulled on out, and wiped her tears away. “You’ve not ruined everything and don’t you ever think we don’t want you. You’re the most precious thing to us Jemma. And I know this is hard, and we’re not going to push you or pressure you into speaking about what’s on your mind, you don’t have to tell us until you’re ready but don’t you ever think that we wouldn’t want you, okay?”

Jemma nodded slowly. “I’m sorry.”

He smiled at her. “It’s okay.”

“Right,” her mum said, interrupting the other two, knowing it was for the best. Jemma was upset, devastated, carrying the burden of guilt, the weight of regret, and she didn’t seem like she would be sharing it tonight, or anytime soon. Plus her daughter was tired, she had had a transatlantic flight, she needed her rest. “I think we should call it a night, if you want to go get washed, I’ll sort out your room.”

“You don’t have to,” Jemma said, that familiar sickening feeling of guilt flooding back into her stomach.

“But I want to,” her mum countered. “What do you say?”

Jemma looked at her mum. She didn’t want her mother to go out of her way, but Adelle Simmons was just as stubborn as her daughter, and Jemma knew there was no point arguing with her, so she nodded.

Adelle smiled. “Excellent.”

“I’ll go use the bathroom then?” Jemma said, the wording making it sound more like a question than anything else and her mother nodded this time.

“If you want dear.”

Jemma rose from her position on the sofa, and made her way to the staircase, only stopping when her mother called her.

“Yes?” she asked, stopping and turning back to face her parents.

“Don’t worry about breakfast tomorrow morning, we can go to Simpsons if you want.”

“Simpsons?” Jemma hadn’t been there in years, it was one of her favourite places to eat and she really wanted to go. _Really_ wanted to go, and although that voice in her mind, the one that was constantly whispering words into her mind, words that sowed self-doubt and pain and guilt, she couldn’t help but nod, the edge of her lips curving up into a half smile. “That would be amazing.”

***

“You up already?” her father asked, entering the living room the next morning, finding Jemma sitting there, looking up something on her tablet, whilst making notes. She set her mug of tea down, and leaned over the back of the sofa smiling at him.

“You know me, always up at the crack of dawn. Don’t worry, I’ve not eaten anything, I didn’t want to ruin my appetite. I was waiting for you and mum.”

Rupert nodded. She seemed happy, she was smiling, her tone was happy, but she seemed to be hiding something. He had heard cries during the night, coming from her room. It had woken her mother and him. They had laid awake, wondering what to do, not knowing if they should wake her or not. In the end, they had decided not to; she had seemed upset enough the previous night, and the last thing they wanted to do was make her retreat herself further into herself. So they had left her alone, and listened to her, hating themselves, as she cried out.

“Dad,” Jemma said, frowning at him now. “Is everything okay?”

“What?” He blinked a number of times, then regained his composure. He must have zoned out and missed something that she said. “Sorry.”

Jemma shrugged. “It’s okay. I just asked you is mum nearly ready?  I heard her getting ready.”

“Oh yeah, yeah. She’s just finding that jacket you got her for Christmas the other year. I was just lost in thought.”

“Is it work? Is Jack still giving you grief?”

He shook his head, making his way around to sit on the sofa with her. “No, no. Not anymore. He never got that promotion in the end.”

“Ahh,” Jemma said, understanding.

“But what are you doing?” he asked, nodding at her notebook. He couldn’t read her writing, not at all. It was nothing more than a scrawl, something she had always had; she had always gotten in trouble in school for writing like that. Jemma had always argued that it wasn’t her fault, that she was trying to write everything down before she forgot it.

She looked at it. “I was researching stuff I would need. Vitamins, clothes, doctors. There’s so much more than what I was expecting.” She shook her head.

“You can do it. You’ve plenty of time anyway to get everything together. You always did say that you excelled at preparation.”

“I do,” she replied, reaching for her mug again and took a drink. “Do you still talk to Beth? Does she still work with you?”

Beth, one of the girls that Jemma had went to school with. She had been a number of years older than Jemma, since Jemma had skipped a number of years, something that she had struggled with due to being vastly more intelligent than everyone else in her class. Everyone had bullied her, teased her, isolated her. Beth hadn’t been mean to Jemma, hadn’t been one of the ones to bully her but she hadn't cared much about Jemma either. And in the end, she had ended up working in the same department as Rupert in the local university, the physics department.

“Yeah, I do see her, she’s not in at the moment, just had her second child. Why you asking about her? I didn’t think you were friends.”

Jemma shook her head. “We weren’t. I knew last time I was here she was expecting. I just wanted to know which midwife she went to.”

“You want the best?”

Jemma nodded.

Her father thought. “I think she went with Georgina…”

“Ahhh…” Jemma said. She and Georgina… They hadn’t been friends at all, in fact it was Georgina who had been one of the ring leaders of the pack of girls that had bullied Jemma. They hadn’t spoken since Jemma had left for the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy when she was barely 16 and that was the way she had wanted it, and that was the way it was going to stay. She knew people said that moving on was the best course of action, to forgive and forget, but after all that Georgina had put her through, she didn’t want any more contact.

“You can go private,” her dad offered. “Me and your mum can help you. I got that bonus last year, and your mum is back to full time teaching.

Jemma thought it through for a moment; going private wasn’t that bad of an idea. Her own parents had went private when they had had her and had recommended it to her if she were ever to have a child of her own. They were more flexible, you got to know them better and it was more personal. “I think I might,” she said, considering her words. “I was looking into it. But it’s okay, you don’t have to pay for it. I’m sure I can afford it.”

She was more than confident she could. While she had been on Maveth she hadn’t been paid, the team thinking her dead, but once she had came back, the six months of pay had made its way into her account. And she hadn’t touched it. Not yet anyway. She hadn’t touched much of her pay since S.H.I.E.L.D. fell; she had only used some of it when she was undercover. There had been no need for it.

“Just know,” he said and his tone indicated that it wasn’t just finance and money he was talking about but something else, maybe everything else. “That we’re here for you Jemma, no matter what. We’re here for you.”

“I know, and thank you. For everything.”

He smiled at her. “Now, Simpsons, what you are thinking of getting?”

“You can’t go wrong with a fry.”

***

Simpsons was only a fifteen-minute drive from their house and the roads were empty, the morning rush hour traffic gone.

The café itself was half empty, the only people there either mothers with their children, or pensioners enjoying a late breakfast.

The Simmons family took a table in the far corner, the owner recognising them despite how many years it had been.

“Jemma,” he said, his voice cheerful. “How are you? I’ve not seen you in years.”

“Jamie, I’m fine. I’m back home for a while and I couldn’t say no to a chance to come here. I’ve missed it.”

“You’re too kind. The usual I take it?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

After taking the orders of both Adelle and Rupert, the man disappeared back to the kitchen, leaving Jemma with her family.

“I’ve been looking into the private place, down the road,” Jemma. “I was thinking about it. After what you said, about how good it was.”

“You should ask for Teresa, thank you,” she interrupted herself as one of the waiters brought a pot of tea and some cups over. “She helped me when I was pregnant with you. I’m sure she would do the same.”

“That’s who I asked for, dad said she was helpful. I actually booked an appointment for tomorrow morning, they do recommend that you get one around eight weeks.”

“Do you need us to come with you? Your dad only has lectures in the afternoon, and I’m sure I can get the morning off, I only have first years. I can get Fred to cover for me.”

She shook her head, pouring herself a mug of tea and adding the milk. “Gosh no, I’m fine. It’s just a first meeting, going over family history, though I may need some information on that, discussing information about pregnancy and how I want it to proceed and what my options are. Nothing that I don’t already know, it’s more formality than anything else.”

“I’ll be there all morning, you know that. And your mum’s just a phone call away.”

Jemma nodded and before anything else could be said, Jamie brought breakfast over, and the air became heavy with a conversation that remained unspoken.

***

Her first appointment had went well and Teresa had been lovely. The meeting had been very informal, with Teresa answering any questions that Jemma had. She was understanding, extremely understanding of Jemma and her situation and had provided her with a number of leaflets, listing details for where she could get additional help and the best products to get. Teresa had also offered Jemma a dating scan, something that she had taken up, and it was fast approaching now.

She was now just under three months pregnant, which meant that it had been three months since that night with Fitz. Three months since everything had changed and here she was now, standing in front of the mirror in her bedroom, wearing nothing but pyjama bottoms and a bra, running her hands across her abdomen. She was starting to show now, it was very subtle and you had to know what it was you were looking for but she was starting to show.

She ran her hands over her abdomen, her fingers trailing over the scars and the burns that still lingered there, the scars and burns that would mark her skin forever. She hadn’t told her parents yet, how could she? They were already worried enough about her, trying to figure out what exactly had happened to her. She couldn’t tell them she had been tortured. She just couldn’t.

Sighing, she reached for the shirt she had left on the end of her bed, and slid it on, slowly buttoning it up. It was a soft blue, one of Fitz’s. She had stolen it sometime after returning from Maveth and she had never found the time to return it. And she wouldn’t.

She wouldn’t get to see him again. And it hurt. It hurt so much but it was the best thing. He deserved someone better than her. She wasn’t worthy of his love. And he didn’t deserve hers. He deserved someone who would treat him the way that he deserved him, he deserved someone who would love and care for him the way he deserved. Someone who was much better than her.

She stepped forward, these thoughts swimming through her mind and closed her curtains, blocking out the few stars that could be still be seen twinkling against the inky backdrop of the night sky. It was late at night, closer to early morning than anything else and walked over to her bed. She pulled back the duvet and climbed into bed, hoping that sleep would come easy but knowing it wouldn’t.

Knowing that the horrors would soon overwhelm her.

And they did.

The darkness.

The pain.

The cold bite of the wind and the stinging of sand as it hit her face.

She was alone, in the never-ending blue of Maveth; she was alone. She screamed and she cried and no one came. No one would come, no one would ever come.

_Jemma._

It was one word. Her name, being called out.

_Jemma._

It came again and suddenly, there was a blinding light and she was home, at her parents’ house, in her own bed in her own bedroom.

She was safe, she was here, she wasn’t _there_.

“Jemma,” it was her father who was speaking, kneeling beside her bed. “Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes, squinting against the light, despite sleeping with a lamp, the sudden brightness was something that she wasn’t yet adjusted to. It took her a few moments but finally she was able to take him in, and see the worry that was laced in his facial features.

And she shook her head.

***

They hadn’t talked about it that night, but her father had come with her the next day to her dating scan, though he had waited outside after she had asked him to. Her mum, as much as she loved her, hadn’t come, she had been unable to get the day of work last minute, and Jemma hadn’t told her mother about what had happened. She couldn’t. Not yet anyway.

After the dating scan had confirmed she was three months pregnant, with her child due at the end of the year, close to Christmas, her father had taken her out for ice cream, going to the local park. They sat on the benches, under the old oak tree, an ice cream each. The early summer sun was beating down and there were a number of people out enjoying it; joggers, dog walkers and a few families in the playpark.

Jemma stirred the plastic spoon round and round in the tub, the ice cream already starting to melt due to the heat. She hadn’t told him anything yet, she didn’t know where to start. There was just too much to say.

“Jemma,” he said, and she looked at him, facing him. She couldn’t read the emotions on his face. “What’s wrong? Me, your mum, we’re worried about you.”

“You can’t tell her,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. “Please, you can’t tell mum. Not yet.”

Her dad nodded. “I promise.”

Jemma let out a breath. “I was… I was working with something. Something alien, a portal but no one knew. I didn’t know. Not until it was too late. It took me,” she shook her head, letting out a laugh of disbelief. “It took me to a different planet, a different galaxy.”

Her father stared at her in horror, but never spoke, allowing his daughter to continue her story instead.

“For six months, I didn’t see the sun. Six months, I spent in darkness…” She trailed off, lost in thought.

“Is that why you sleep with the lamp on?”

Jemma nodded. “I can’t stand… I can’t stand the dark. Not anymore.”

Rupert looked at his daughter, taking her in. And now, now everything made sense, the nightmares, why she was withdrawing herself and keeping these things to herself. “Jemma…”

“And I killed the only person I had with me. I wasn’t alone,” she continued, a hint of anger in her tone. But it wasn’t directed at him, it was directed at herself. “I wasn’t alone. I had someone, Will, someone who cared for me, someone who loved me and I killed him. He died… he died saving me when all he wanted to do was go home. He had been stuck there for fourteen years, and all he wanted was to go home and I ruined that. It’s my fault, it’s all my fault!” And her voice broke, and sobs escaped her, her body trembling. Without realising it, she had dropped her tub of ice cream, and the vanilla soaked into the ground. “It’s all my fault”

Rupert dropped his own ice cream, the thing no longer important and wrapped his daughter in his arms, as she sobbed into his shoulder.

It took her close to half an hour to calm down, to pull away and be able to look her father in the eye. “Jemma,” he said, his voice comforting and reassuring. “It was never your fault, okay, and I know it’s hard for you to believe at the moment but this will get easier, okay. And if there is anything else you want to talk to me about you can, and I won’t tell your mum, not until you’re ready.”

And she did. She told him everything, right from the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. to being disavowed. Every single detail that she could, she told him. Every single feeling, every ounce of guilt, she let someone else help her carry the burden of it.

It took nearly three hours for Jemma to tell him everything and not once did he interrupt her, not once did he say anything that made her feel any worse about herself, he simply listened and understood, and reassured her. And despite the fact she knew it would still take time, that these feelings would linger for years, maybe even forever, she felt better. She felt better for having gotten her worries out of her mind, that she was no longer carrying the guilt alone.

Walking back to the car in silence, the late afternoon sun warm on the back of their neck, Jemma only said two words, but that was all that was needed to be said. Two words.

_Thank you._

***

As the weeks continued on, Adelle found that her daughter was becoming more and more like the daughter she had once known, before S.H.I.E.L.D. had happened. The bright, bubbly girl who had a big heart and was curious about everything and anything. But she still wasn’t opening up, at least to her anyway. Maybe Jemma had talked to her father about whatever it was that was bothering her. She had always been that bit closer to him, found him easier to talk to about personal issues.

Not that Adelle was jealous, in fact she was happy, happy that Jemma was finally opening up. But she was still worried about Jemma, worried that there was still something upsetting her. And she knew it had to do with Fitz. Fitz who didn’t know that Jemma was pregnant. Fitz who Jemma had left because she thought it was best for him. Fitz who was Jemma’s best friend and the man that she loved.

But she wasn’t going to push, not until Jemma was ready. Jemma would open up in her own time. She always did.

“Jemma? You almost ready?” she called up the stairs to her daughter. Adelle had managed to persuade Jemma to let her come to the twenty-week scan, the one where Jemma would be finding out the sex of her child. She had wanted to know as soon as she found out she could and she was somewhat excited for today though Jemma was also somewhat nervous. Every scan made her nervous but everything had seemed healthy so far, and there seemed to be nothing wrong.

“Yeah, coming!” Jemma called back, making her way down the stairs and slinging her bag over her shoulder. She was really starting to show now, wearing maternity clothing that were lose and baggy, items that were more comfortable than the shirts and trousers she usually dressed in.

She reached for the table, and grabbed some loose change that was sitting in the dish, her mother frowned. “For the hospital car park,” Jemma explained. “I only have my card.”

“Ahh,” her mother said, understanding, sliding on her coat. “You ready?”

Jemma nodded, a smile on her face. “I am.”

The drive to the hospital wasn’t that long and Teresa was waiting for them, with Adelle joking that Teresa had to be the only person in the world who was more prepared in life than Jemma. They walked down the corridor to the room that was to be used, Teresa asking Jemma about any changes that may have occurred since the last meeting. Nothing seemed to be wrong, everything going well, something that the ultrasound seemed to confirm.

“Are you ready?” Teresa asked, and Jemma nodded, looking on the screen at her child. It was only another twenty weeks, maybe less until it was born. It still, at times, didn’t feel real. But with every passing week, the reality of what was happening really started to set in. Her and her parents had started to buy what was needed, the spare room in the house becoming something similar to a nursery. But there was still plenty to buy. “Well,” Teresa continued. “Congratulations Jemma. It’s a girl.”

Jemma stared at the screen, at the image of her child, her _daughter_ on screen, tears in her eyes. “She’s amazing,” she whispered, not wanting to take her eye of the screen.

Adelle couldn’t help the tears either, at seeing her daughter so happy. But something had been bugging her the entire appointment, something that she couldn’t seem to shake no matter what. It was the scars and the burns on her daughter’s stomach, something she had kept secret and hidden for so long. Once she had first seen them, everything had made sense; why Jemma wore longer tops, why she attended appointments alone. Someone had hurt her daughter, and now she was determined to find out who. And why. She had to know who would do such a thing to her daughter, and why? How someone could hurt Jemma? Someone so innocent and undeserving?

And Adelle knew she should feel guilty over it, but she was glad that Jemma was home. Somewhere safe. Somewhere where no one could hurt her.

“Mum?” Jemma’s voice knocked her out of her thoughts. “You coming?” 

“What?”

It seemed that Teresa had left the room, and Jemma was sliding her coat on, top pulled back down over her bump. It seemed that she had been lost in thought whilst the rest of the appointment had happened, so lost in thought about Jemma that she had missed the appointment.

“We’re finished. You seemed… lost in thought about something. Everything’s fine with her.” She cupped her hand over her bump protectively, holding the ultrasound picture. “I thought since you had the whole day of work we could go out for lunch, afternoon tea. Whatever. I would treat you. You’ve done so much for me, it would be a thank you gift.”

Adelle stared at her daughter, then nodded, though slowly, unsure of herself. Jemma seemed so happy, so optimistic, burying whatever it was that had been done to her deep down. Was that what she had told her father? What she was keeping from her? “That sounds great. Are you sure about paying…”

Jemma waved her off, making her way from the room and down the corridor. “It’s fine. Nothing to worry about. It’s a little thank you. I took dad out for breakfast the other week. You two, you’ve done so much for me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pay you back…”

The rest of her ramblings were lost to Adelle, too lost in thought about how to best approach the matter at hand. It was such a sensitive topic and she didn’t want to upset Jemma.

She was still pondering the issue when she got into the car. She put the key in the ignition but that was the furthest she got before she sighed and turned to face her daughter. “Jemma. We need to… we need to talk.”

The atmosphere in the car changed immediately. Jemma’s eyes dropped and she curled up in on herself in the seat. It was obvious she knew what her mother wanted to talk about. “It’s nothing,” she said, her voice distant. “I’m fine. We don’t…”

“We do.” Adelle’s voice was stern and soft at the same time. “Jemma, I understand you want to keep some things to yourself, I understand that and I respect it. If you want to talk to your dad, that’s fine but you’re hurting. I can tell it Jemma, I can sense it. I’m your mother, please sweetheart. Just talk to me.”

“It doesn’t matter, not anymore. It was… it was months ago now. They’re healing… I’m fine, mum. Really, I’m fine. It was a… it was a lab accident.”

Her mother frowned, and raised an eyebrow. “You never could lie Jemma. I just want… I want the truth. Please, sweetheart. You’re hurting, and I can’t… I hate it. Seeing you in pain, seeing you suffer. I just want to make everything better. I just want to make it all okay.”

Jemma shook her head, and wiped away at her tears. “I can’t okay. I can’t tell you.”

Adelle reached over and took one of Jemma’s hands in her own. “You can. You can.”

Jemma shook her head. “I can’t,”

“Why sweetie, why?”

“I can’t,” Jemma repeated at a loss for other words. “I can’t hurt you. Not as well. I can’t hurt you like I hurt him.”

 _Him_. It had to be Fitz, there was no one else that it could be. “Jemma…”

“I was tortured!” The three words came from Jemma, a loud cry, quick and urgent. “I was tortured, okay?” She shook her head, more tears streaming down her face. “I was tortured because of Fitz. They wanted something from Fitz and he wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it so they hurt me. _They hurt me mum_.” Her voice broke on the last four words, the words of someone crying out for her mum.

With some difficulty, Adelle pulled Jemma in close, both women embracing each other as the words that had remained unspoken for so longer were finally being spoken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A MASSIVE shout out and thank you has to go to [stjarna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna) who helped me so much with this chapter such as plotting, the name of Teresa, Jemma's parents jobs and random pregnancy questions! Thanks so much, I could never have done it without you!


	3. Chapter 3

When they got home from the hospital that night, they had a family meeting, one where Jemma could discuss all that was on her mind, all her worries, and eventually, she did. It had been hard, knowing where to start and it had taken days to discuss everything. Tears were shed, both from her and her parents but eventually, everything she had kept to herself, all the demons she had been battling alone, were out in the open, and it felt as though a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

She felt much better than she had in months, years even. Her parents had been understanding, not pushing her to open up if she weren’t ready for it. They told her they were there for her, no matter what, that they didn’t blame her for anything that had happened.

It felt good, it felt so good that she had told them, that she had opened up. It was after she did, that for the first time in years, since she jumped of the Bus after being infected by the Chitauri virus, that she had a night of sleep that wasn’t plagued by horrors, that wasn’t plagued by nightmares. And it was nice, it was really nice to wake up the next morning, just after ten, feeling refreshed.

She made her way downstairs, finding that her parents had both already left to go to work, and that she had the house to herself. They told her not to worry at all about the dishes in the sink, that someone would get them when they came home but an idea started to form in Jemma’s mind. She made her way over to the fridge, opening it and examining what was in it. It held some of what she needed, she would have to go to the shop and get the rest of it, not that that was too difficult. Her dad was taking her mum to work at the moment, leaving her with a car, so she wasn’t stranded should she need anything. And after a quick breakfast of toast and a mug of tea, she ensured all the doors were locked and pulled open the door to her mum’s car.

***

For a Thursday morning, the supermarket wasn’t very busy, only a handful of cars were parked in the carpark, and she only saw one person, maybe two, every other aisle, if that. It was nice though, peaceful. It gave her time to think through things, to make preparations for her next antenatal appointment. She had another one in just under four weeks, once she hit the twenty-fifth week of her pregnancy, something that she couldn’t quite get her head around. Before the end of the year, she would be giving birth to her daughter. It just felt so weird that soon she would be able to hold her daughter. She was more than quite excited for it, but also extremely terrified.

Sometimes, she felt as though she wouldn’t be good enough for her daughter, that she couldn’t give her daughter the life that she deserved despite the constant reassurances of her parents and Teresa. But she knew one thing for sure, that she wasn’t going to be doing it alone, though she wished that Fitz was here with her. Helping her, being there for her. He would love this. He always wanted to be a father, to settle down and have a family. But not like this.

She still thought that he deserved better, that he deserved a chance with someone who would love him and care for him like how he deserved. Her parents had told her to contact him, screw all of the S.H.I.E.L.D. protocols. But she never, she couldn’t. Maybe one day, she would, or maybe she wouldn’t. Only time would tell.

But that didn’t matter, not now. She was here with a plan and a list and she wasn’t going to let anything stop her. She turned left, and made her way down the aisle that held all the sauces, and looked for the one she wanted.

Eventually she found it, a plain tomato sauce that would work perfectly and lifted it off the shelf, spinning it in her hand to check the date when she felt it.

A kick.

The first kick.

There had been some movements over the past number of days, a slight fluttering but nothing like this. A proper kick.

She couldn’t help the surprised gasp that escaped her as she felt it, and her hands immediately dropped to her bump, cupping it protectively. There was another kick, and she was so lost in the moment that she missed the sound of shattering glass.

The jar had fallen to the ground, the glass shattering upon impact on the ground, sending tomato sauce splattering everywhere.

It was only when a sales assistant came running towards her did Jemma take in what had just happened. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

The sales assistant shook his head as Jemma moved so that he could get to the point of the accident, pulling the trolley with her. “Accidents happen all the time don’t worry.”

“I can pay for it if you want.” She looked down at him, unsure and he was already on his hands and knees, trying to pick up the glass. He looked up at her and shook his head.

“Nah, trust me it’s fine. It was only a quid anyway.”

Jemma smiled down at him, feeling slightly guilty at the inconvenience that she had caused. She lifted another jar down, more carefully this time and placed it in with the rest of the food, and pushed the trolley away, whispering one last apology at the sales assistant.

***

The rest of her shopping trip had gone well, and she had managed to find everything she needed, and she was taking a well-deserved rest at the café that was in the supermarket. It was closer to noon now, the café slightly busy with elderly couples having lunch and young mums catching up over a cup of coffee.

Jemma herself was enjoying a cup of tea and a scone, warmed with a generous amount of butter. She placed half in her mouth, cupping her hand under her chin to catch any crumbs that fell and looked around, taking in everything.

It was nice being back at home, she couldn’t deny that. Though her neighbourhood was slightly on the smaller side, lacking the hustle and bustle of the city centre, it was nice to have that noise of suburban life; a dog barking in the distance, the occasional siren, children screaming as they played in the sun.

It was much better than the base. Sometimes deathly silent, and other times a hive of activity. A firearm going off. A clang of a pipe. That was no place to raise a child.

Here, at home, the place that she grew up, that was the place she wanted to raise her child. She knew that best playparks, the best leisure centres. She knew where her daughter would be happy, and have the best childhood that Jemma can provide her.

There was still so much to do, so much to get for her daughter, and her mother had offered to throw her a baby shower but Jemma had declined.  She didn’t have many friends here, those in her class had been older than her, and anyone her age hadn’t wanted to hang out with her, having feeling threatened by her.

Fitz, Daisy, they had been her first real friends and…

No. She stopped herself before she hurt herself. She had been hurt so much, had suffered so much and she wasn’t going to allow it to happen. Not again. She was healing, she was recovering. She had felt so much better than she had in years and she wasn’t going to allow herself to lose the progress that she had gained in terms of her mental health.

Swallowing hard, and fighting back the tears, she rose, forsaking the last bit of scone, and sip of tea and grabbed her shopping, heading out of the supermarket and back towards her mum’s car.

***

When Adelle and Rupert returned home from work that day, they were greeted with a smell that drifted through the house. It was a rich tomato smell, and there was also the sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen, as if someone was frying something.

Adelle and Rupert stared at each other, trying to work out what was happening. In the end, it was Rupert who moved first. He slid the car keys into the dish that sat on the counter by the door, metal clanging slightly, and called out to his daughter.

“I’m in the kitchen!” came her reply, slightly muffled by the walls.

Her parents made their way into the kitchen and almost did a double take when they took in what was happening. Jemma was standing at a hob, a pot and a frying pan. She was making dinner.

She spun once she heard her parents, and smiled at them. She was wearing an apron, white and decorated with cupcakes, though some were hidden under splatters of tomato sauce. “I wasn’t expecting you home this early.”

Her mum shook her head. “I got out early. You didn’t have to make dinner sweetheart.”

“I wanted too,” Jemma said, spinning back around to the hob and stirring what was in the frying pan. “You’ve done so much for me the past number of weeks. I wanted to do something for you.”

“Thank you,” her dad said, smiling at his daughter. Despite everything she had went through, she was still putting others before her. She may have changed in the years since he had last seen her, but deep down she was still their daughter, still their Jemma.

The kind-hearted woman they had raised, the one who considered all before herself, whose main objectives in life where to help others and make the world a better place, a happier place.

“If you want to go get washed, cleaned up, that’s more than fine. Dinner won’t be ready for another fifteen minutes.”

“It smells amazing. What is it?” her mum asked, standing in the doorway

“Just something that Fi… That I learnt to make when I was in the Academy.”

Adelle offered her a smile, knowing what she would have said before she backtracked but she never brought it up. Jemma would in time, if she was ready. “It’ll be amzing.”

And it was, a simple dish of pasta, with tomato sauce to which Jemma had added a handful of stir fried vegetables, and a side of garlic bread and it was one of the first meals that they had shared as a family without an unspoken conversation hanging over them.

***

Summer soon turned into Autumn, and Jemma entered her third trimester, and before she knew it, she was thirty-two weeks pregnant, only just under two months away from giving birth and she was really starting to freak out now.

Over the past number of weeks, before exhaustion really started to hit her, her and her parents had gone out and brought the final few items they could think of for a new baby coming into the household. They knew that, logically, not everything had been brought, but it wasn’t that much of a big deal. They still had time, they still had plenty of time. And anyway, they had told her not to worry about anything. One of them would be able to go out and buy whatever else they needed.

Plus, Amazon Prime and one day shipping existed.

But now, at thirty-two weeks pregnant, Jemma found herself more than a tiny bit tired, spending most of her days at home now, doing the exercises that had been instructed by her midwife and just resting.  She had already started to make plans for when she was in labour, just after Christmas if all went well.

It would be one of the best Christmas gifts she could receive.

She had already drawn up a short list of names, and she was trying to narrow it down to just two, something that she was having difficulty with at the moment. But there was one name she kept coming back to; Peggy.

After her hero. Peggy Carter. She had been scared to tell her parents, not wanting them to laugh at the name in case it was stupid but she just couldn’t get it out of her mind, and she was so lost in thought about it that she missed her dad coming into the room.

“Jemma? You okay?”

She blinked a number of times, and turned to face him, smiling. She nodded down to the magazine that was resting on her bump; one about parenthood. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

He passed her a mug. “It’s okay, it’s natural. To be scared, to be terrified. Me and your mum were when we were expecting you.”

“You were?” Jemma shook her head, unable to believe that. That someone as level headed and prepared as her mother could be worried about something. “No, that can’t be possible.”

Her father laughed. “Jemma, you’re more prepared than your mother and me combined. Months before you even started school you had a list prepared. We had to buy you three pairs of shoes as you kept growing out of each pair before you started it.”

She didn’t reply for several moments, thinking back to when she was that young. She had only vague memories of it; screaming and crying at her parents because her shoes no longer fitted her and school was starting again in a week. “I remember that. I threw a tantrum, didn’t I? The week before it started?”

Her father laughed again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you throw a tantrum as big as that big before.” He shook his head, before bringing his mug to his lips and taking a drink. “It took as hours to calm you down. You were terrified you wouldn’t be able to go to school without shoes.”

“That does sound like me,” Jemma agreed. “Caring about education from such a young age.”

“You did, and sometimes we couldn’t keep up with you. You and your biology. Working at A-Level standard at nine. And here’s me having failed biology.”

“You still helped,” she reassured her dad, offering him a smile. “You got me that work from Uni despite everyone saying that I couldn’t do it. I could never have gotten that first doctorate without you and mum.”

“Yeah well, you were extremely determined to get it. There was no saying no to you.”

Jemma smiled at her father, setting the mug down on the arm of the sofa before her hands dropped down to her bump, her daughter once again kicking.

“She’s going to be an amazing footballer is she decides that science isn’t her thing.”

Her dad seemed to disagree with that, shaking his head. “With you and Fitz as her parents? Nah, she’ll be the smartest person to ever walk this earth. Do you’ve a name for her yet?”

Jemma shrugged, folding one of the corners of the magazine, then unfolding it again, in the hopes of reducing her nerves. “I’ve a couple. I don’t… I was thinking maybe Marie. After…”

“After Marie Curie. But that’s not the name you really like?”

Jemma knew that game was up, that her father knew her too well at this point. Her father could read her hidden emotions almost as well as Fitz had been able to, and she knew there was no hiding things from him.

“I was thinking Peggy, after Peggy Carter, and I’ve not been able to get it out of my head since. I know it’s stupid, naming her after…”

“No,” her father cut in. “No, it’s not stupid. To be honest, I rather like it. Peggy Simmons. It has a certain ring to it.”

Jemma smiled, nodding. Peggy certainly was a nice name, and it would suit her daughter perfectly.

“What do you think?” Jemma asked her daughter. “What do you think of Peggy?” There was a kick in response, as if her daughter were agreeing with the choice of name. “I think she likes it.”

But she wasn’t simply calling her Peggy Simmons.

No, she was calling her daughter Peggy Violet Fitzsimmons.

***

Christmas that year wasn’t a massive affair at the Simmons household, they were too on edge about the imminent arrival of Peggy.

They had been to the hospital a number of times already, most recently on Christmas Eve as Jemma’s Braxton Hicks had gotten worse, but she still wasn’t in labour.

Not yet anyway. Teresa had told her it was likely that she would give birth by the end of the week, and now it was just a waiting game, but they had done the right thing coming to the hospital and getting checked up.

But there was nothing that could be done at the moment, so they were send home each time, though coming home the last time hadn’t been so bad, they had managed to get into the local McDonalds before it closed and had spent early Christmas morning sitting in a carpark eating fast food. It was a unique way to spend the morning but it was something quite fun.

But Christmas came and went, and still no baby. And as happy and excited as Jemma was to be a mother, she did want her pregnancy to be over at this point, to be able to hold her daughter in her arms.

She was extremely uncomfortable at the moment; her centre of gravity having shifted due to her bump; she had slept in weeks and her Braxton Hicks were becoming more and more uncomfortable.

She rose, unable to sit anymore, when she felt it, a rush of water down her leg. She was alone in the living room, her mother in the kitchen making something for lunch, and her father was in the shower. But she knew what the rush of water was, what it meant.

Her water had broken. She was going into labour.

She called out to her parents, the end of her call turning into a cry of pain as an extremely painful contraction took over her.

Her mother was there in moments, helping her through it, and could tell what was happening immediately. But it took her father a number of moments more to arrive, stumbling down the stairs trying to get his shirt on. “It’s started, hasn’t it?” he asked, already reaching for the keys.

Adelle nodded, helping her daughter to walk across the room and to the front door. “We’ll get in the car, see you in a moment.”

Rupert nodded, running a hand through what remaining hair he had. He knew that this had been coming, it wasn’t that it was a shock or anything but it was still somewhat odd that it was happening already.

That his daughter was about to become a mother, and him a grandfather.

Taking moments to get his bearings, he hurried into the kitchen, checking that the backdoor was locked before running back to the hall, grabbing the suitcase as he did so.

He banged it a number of times as he got it out to the car, throwing it haphazardly in the boot, then ran back to the front door, ensuring that it was also locked before actually entering the car.

He took a breath to calm himself, then put the keys into the ignition and pulled out of the driveway.

The streets were half empty, few people leaving their houses unless they had to for work so the drive to the hospital took half the time it normally did.

Adelle had taken the backseat with Jemma, helping her daughter through her breathing exercises, holding her hand and being there for her.

They had phoned the hospital on the way, and they already had a room waiting for her by the time they arrived in hospital.

Jemma had planned how she wanted her labour to go, though she knew that things were liable to change but she did have an idea of what she wanted; she wanted her mum in the room with her, her father having agreed to wait in the waiting room, and she wanted a birth with a little pain relief as possible, but would take an epidural if she needed it.

Teresa had been waiting for them, and after examining Jemma, had discovered that she was already 5cm dilated, meaning that she was already in the active stages of labour. Jemma barely had a chance to reply before an intense contraction took over her, and she let out a groan.

The gas and air she was using was only slightly helping, it was taking the edge of the contractions more than stopping the pain altogether. And with each contraction, she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her, causing her to lose her train of thought. Not that it mattered, there were more important things at hand. Her daughter was going to be soon, and she was focusing on trying to make labour go as smoothly as possible.

After a number of hours, she was fully dilated, and ready to start pushing, ready to start giving birth to her daughter. Her contractions had gotten more painful, a pain she had never experienced in her life before.

But her mum was there for her, a hand to hold and the gentle voice of reason. Adelle helped her daughter through her breathing exercises, something that Jemma snapped at several times, understandably. She had been up for hours and was in a lot of pain, something that Adelle understood all too well. She had been just like that when she had given birth. And still, she let her daughter hold her hand, and squeeze it when the pain got too much. She just hoped that Jemma wouldn’t break her fingers, like she had done to her husband all those years ago now.

It was a number of hours more before Teresa spoke again, telling Jemma that she was so close, that she could see the head of the baby now, that Jemma was so close. “You just need to relax,” Teresa informed, her voice gentle and reassuring. “You’re so close now, and you’ve done so well.”

Jemma shook her head, leaning back. “I can’t,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and barely audible. “I can’t.”

Her mum reached for the washcloth that was sitting in a bowl of lukewarm water. She rinsed it so that it was damp, and soothed Jemma, running it over her forehead, damp with sweat that caused her hair to stick to it. She was pale, but her cheeks red. “You can, sweetie. You can. You’re so close, you can do it.”

Finding one last bout of strength, Jemma powered through the last moments of labour, and before she knew it, her daughter was born Teresa wrapping her in a blanket and passing her to the new mother.

Jemma held her daughter close, taking her in her new born daughter. Something that was a mixture between a laugh and a sob escaped her, as her daughter squirmed in the blanket, crying.

“Hiya,” Jemma cooed, feeling an overwhelming, all-consuming feeling of love that she had never felt before. “Hiya.”

She smiled down at her daughter, who was nestled close to her and made a silent vow to always protect her, to always keep her safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, this fic can be happy. Thanks for all the support that this has gotten so far, it makes me super happy.


	4. Chapter 4

Jemma hadn’t expected to take to motherhood like she had. It was hard, that she was not going to deny; there had been many sleepless nights, but unless she wanted a feed or a change, Peggy was normally a peaceful baby. And Jemma was forever thankful for her parents being there, she had no idea what she would have done without them. They were always there for her, running to the shops if they discovered that they were missing something that they needed, and answering any queries that she might have.

But she was also looking into moving out of the house, moving into her own home. It made taken her a number of weeks to voice this to her parents, and it was well into January when she did. They had, thankfully, understood, understood that she wanted her own space, her own privacy. Somewhere that she could call her own. Though she wanted somewhere that was still close to home, somewhere where her parents would be close by and be able to lend a hand if it was needed. And it also meant that they didn’t miss out on anything. They would be able to come around for Sunday Lunch, or Jemma to her parent’s house, something that Jemma had been adamant that she wouldn’t miss. She loved her Sunday Lunch, and it was time shared as a family, something she was determined that Peggy experience.

It had taken months to look around at potentially apartments, there was so much that was needed to be considered when looking; what the facilities were like nearby, is there a good school close to the area, how far away her parents would be, if it would be easy to go shopping, what the neighbours would be like, what floor of the building she would be on, what amenities would be available to her, what the price was per month and so on.

Eventually, she found somewhere that she and Peggy seemed to like; it was just under fifteen minutes away from her parents by car, the price was well within her budget, the lift was spacious enough that there would be no difficulty bringing any shopping, or the pram, up and down (and she was only on the third floor anyway) and most of her neighbours were either parents themselves or elderly people, something she was glad of. She had tried to avoid the area that had a number of students, not wanting any parties they may have disrupt her daughter’s sleep.

It was early June before Jemma was able to move in, and she was just finishing packing. All her clothes and possessions that she needed had been packed, her father and mother taking them to the apartment already so she wouldn’t need to pay the added expensive of a removal van.

Reaching for the last item on her desk, a photo frame, she felt a twinge of sadness in her stomach. It was the selfie that she and Fitz had taken together during one of their first missions together, in Peru. They looked so young, so innocent back then. They didn’t know what the world would hold for them, what the universe would put them through. It was back when Ward had been counted as one of the team, and Daisy had been Skye. Before Jemma had put Fitz through all he had suffered. He was better off without her, they all were. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t love them. She still did and she always would.

She reached forward with the hand that wasn’t holding the picture, and ran her index finger down the glass, tracing Fitz’s figure with the tip of it. A sad smile crossed her face and she spun, placing it in the box before closing it. And that was everything, all packed up and ready for her new start. Again. She had gotten so many of them from the Universe recently that she was starting to wonder if they would ever stop, if one day it would just go  _No, no more new starts. Not again_.

Looking up, she smiled at her daughter. She was sitting in her chair in Jemma’s room, happily chewing on her new teething ring. She had been in pain the past few days, and after talking to her mum and doing some of her own research, Jemma had come to the conclusion that she was teething and had taken her out to get a teething ring, that seemed to be helping at the moment. “Hiya,” Jemma cooed, stepping closer to her daughter, who upon seeing her mother approach, dropped the ring and raised her arms, indicating that she wanted to be lifted.

Jemma bent down, unbuckling her daughter and lifted her up into her arms. “Hiya!” She placed a kiss on her daughter’s nose and this got a giggle out of the young girl. She truly loved being with her mother, and all the attention she received as a result of it. “You ready to go to your new home?” She beamed at her daughter, who just bubbled at this. Without even thinking about it, it was second nature now, she pulled a face which got an even bigger laugh from her daughter, who then tried to mirror her expression, blue eyes wide and taking everything in.

Jemma laughed, shaking her head and placing a kiss on her daughter’s head. Her dad would be taking round the last few boxes later, all she had to do now was go to her new home. “C’mon. Let’s go see our new house.”

***

The next day, Jemma had gotten bored of unpacking. It just wasn’t fun. Playing with Peggy was much more fun, sitting on the floor with her, reading to her, dancing for her. It was just so much more enjoyable than putting knives in a drawer in her kitchen. And so, that’s how she spent the morning, her daughter more than loving it, babbling and laughing along with her mother.

And without really realising just how much time had passed, it was soon lunch. But her apartment had only the basics and stuff for her daughter, and half her plates were still not unpacked yet. Really, she couldn’t eat lunch. Not here.

So throwing some food for Peggy into the bag and grabbing her purse, she fastened Peggy into her buggy and left the apartment. It was the beginning of summer. There was no point spending it inside, wasting it. She should be outside, enjoying the nice weather with her daughter while it lasted. That’s what she thought anyway as she pushed her daughter out of the apartment block and down the road.

Turning left, she found the café that she liked, Simpsons. It just so happened that her apartment was around the corner from it, something that she wasn’t complaining about. As soon as she entered, Jamie looked up from the counter that he was busy cleaning, the lunch rush not yet having started, and dropped his cloth and walked around to meet them.

He instantly knelt in front of the buggy, cooing at the young girl, going on and on about how she was the cutest baby that he had ever seen.

“I thought your Sam was a mother.”

He looked up at her, and shook his head. “She’s still pregnant. He doesn’t want to make an appearance, not yet anyway.”

“So Peggy here will lose her role as cutest baby.”

Jamie laughed, standing up again. “My first grandchild has to get that role. Wouldn’t be fair. But Peggy can be the cutest girl?”

Jemam rolled her eyes, and laughed.

“The usual then?” he asked, heading back to the counter.

“That would be lovely,” Jemma replied making her way to the seat she and Peggy usually took, in the corner by the window. She dragged over a high chair, lifting Peggy out and into it. She reached into her bag, pulling out the pot of food she had packed and a small plastic spoon. She also took out the bib, and somehow wrestled it onto Peggy.

Opening the pot of food, she tried not to heave at the smell of it. It was disgusting, she hated the smell of it but her daughter more than enjoyed it. She scooped a tiny bit onto the spoon, and using the timeless technique of being an airplane, managed to get her daughter to eat four spoonsful. But from there, it all went downhill.

Peggy began to misinterpret her mother’s actions, taking it that she wanted to play rather than to eat, so when she was fed the fifth spoonful, she didn’t swallow it, just letting it rest in her mouth. But Jemma was smart, and she caught on quick. She set the two objects that she was holding down on the table, and leaned forward, wiping the tiny bit of food that was on her daughter’s cheeks then smiled at her. “You going to eat that? You going to eat that for mummy?”

Peggy started at her, eyes wide then she opened her mouth, the food dripping out all at once, clinging to her face, her bib and splattering down on to the high chair. Then she smiled, running her hands through the mess that she had made, making it worse.

But that didn’t stop Jemma from trying again. “You going to eat it for mummy? Please?” Peggy’s eyes were wide as she took in her mother’s words, and then she swallowed.

“That’s such a good girl,” she cooed, beaming at her daughter, who clapped her hands back in response, and somewhere in the distant, the background of her mind, Jemma heard the door open and close again. Not that it mattered. The door always opened and closed, and it was never anyone who she concerned herself with, but what did cause her to look up was the voice.

“Jemma Simmons?”

It was Lance Hunter.

She stared at him in shock as he all but strutted over to her table, and pulled a chair over, joining her. “We’ve been looking for you.”

She didn’t speak, just stared at the man.

“I was disavowed,” she said, finding her voice, using a wipe and cleaning down the high chair. Peggy had given up on eating, and was more interested in smearing it everywhere, something that Jemma was keen to stop. Not that Jamie would have minded, it just meant that there was one less thing he had to worry about. “I was to cut all contact with you, with everyone. It was decided it was for the best.”

“But who decided?” Hunter asked, pressing the matter. “Mace or you?”

She looked up from the mess she was cleaning up, folding the wipe in half then half again and setting it on the table. “Fitz deserves better than me. He’s always deserved better than me.”

Hunter looked at her, his eyes wide, weeping pity. “Jemma, he’s misses you. All these months, he’s been looking for you…” he trailed of as a somewhat sheepishly Jamie set Jemma’s lunch down on the table, and looked at Hunter, as if expecting him to order. “Just a plate of chips please,” he asked, and Jamie nodded, scuttling back off to the kitchen. “Is she Fitz’s?” Hunter asked of Peggy, now chewing once again on the teething ring. She didn’t seem that hungry, having had a feed only two hours before they left the house. Jemma would try again later, she was still trying to wean Peggy. It would take time, but she would get there, eventually.

Jemma lifted one quarter of her sandwich, and ate it before answering. “Is there anyone else who could be the father?”

Hunter just nodded, and accepted his plate of chips with a single word of thanks. He knew that it would take time to get Jemma to open up, to come to terms with all that had happened.

And they, the team, were going to be there for her every step of the way.

***

They had went for a walk after, talking about small things that didn’t matter; the weather being the primary one but Jemma knew that Hunter would eventually bring up the team, that he would eventually say for what reason that he had come, and ideas about why were already swimming around her mind.

Eventually they stopped, under an old oak tree in the park. Jemma threw down a blanket, sitting down on it and setting Peggy in her lap. She passed her young daughter a fruit pouch, the top having ripped open.

Hunter sat down opposite her, starting at her. “Am I going first or are you?”

Jemma sighed. “It was a year ago I discovered I was pregnant with Peggy here, it was a complete surprise. We used protective, me and Fitz. And maybe the condom broke, it happens, there’s no birth control that is 100% effective. And Mace, he found out, before me even. He called me into his office, wanting to know my side of the story, who the father was. And he knew, he knew it was Fitz. There was no one else it could be. But I made him promise not to tell anyone, not even Fitz. I took my punishment. I cut all contact with the team. And came here, back home. I’ve just moved into that apartment yesterday.” She met his eyes, pain laced in them. “Lance, I’ve caused so much pain. It’s better if I’m here.”

“You really think that?”

She nodded, picking up the fruit pouch that Peggy had dropped before handing it back to her. “Look at Fitz, look at all the pain that I caused him.” She shook her head this time, as if in disbelief. “It’s just better for everyone.”

“No,” he said, his voice low, the undertone of pity hidden. “No Jemma. He misses you. He hasn’t stopped searching for you. Him, Daisy, Bobbi. They’ve spent the better part of the year looking for you.”

“He still doesn’t know I’m here?”

“No. Mace hasn’t let him off base unless he was supervised. Too scared that he would run off and try find you. All his security was revoked. His and Daisy’s. Bobbi’s too. You just disappeared again. All information on you was gone, we couldn’t even run facial recognition. It just doesn’t seem to pick you up. We think that S.H.I.E.L.D. was deleting everything about you before it was even available. But he never stopped looking, not once Jemma.”

“Then how are you here?”

“May. She confided in me. Told me what had happened. Asked me to find you. Thought I would be the best choice to come to you. We never really talked, did we?”

Jemma shook her head. “No. Not really…” she trailed off, her mind obviously somewhere else. “How is he?”

“He misses you Jemma. It hasn’t been the same without you.”

“I couldn’t,” she tried, her voice breaking. “Everything I do to help him, to make his life better… I just make things worse. I just want to help him, I want to make his life better. He doesn’t deserve me.”

Hunter stood up, and then came around and sat beside her, wrapped his arms around her, comforting her. “Maybe, instead of doing what you think is best for him, you should do what you want, what he would want because I know Fitz, I know he would want to be here, with you, with his daughter, and you want that too, don’t you?”

Jemma nodded, her head resting on his shoulder, the first of the tears starting to fall. “I can’t do anything right.” The statement, just five simple words from her, where enough to break her. The tears started to fall, and her body starting shaking as everything once again came crashing down around her. She had tried so hard, and yet once again, she had failed everyone. She could do nothing right. All she had wanted was to help, to make everyone’s lives better, to make sure everyone was happy and healthy. But she couldn’t do that right. Every time she tried, putting everyone’s own happiness before her own, it backfired on her, and everyone seemed to end up worse than they originally had been. “I can’t do anything right.”

She felt a gentle rocking back and forth, it was Hunter, doing it in an attempt to sooth her, trying to take away the pain that she had been carrying for so long without realising. She thought it had all gone, faded and ebbed away with time, but it hadn’t. Instead, it had burrowed deeper into her heart, hiding there and only now making a reappearance. And he was right, she did want Fitz here with her. She had always wanted Fitz here with her, she had always wanted Fitz here with her. Because he would have loved this, raising a child with her, spending all day together, watching as Peggy grew up into the wonderful woman that Jemma knew she would be.

But maybe it wasn’t too late, maybe she hadn’t messed everything up, ruined that future.

Maybe she could still have that future.

***

She had spent the rest of the day with Hunter. It had taken her a while to calm down, to regain her composure. She had apologised profusely after her breakdown but Hunter had shaken his head, dismissing her, saying that it was nothing.

They had remained in the park, Peggy wanting to see the ducks that resided in the pond that took up the centre of the park and to her daughter’s delight, Jemma had packed a bag of birdseed that could be used (she did excel at preparation after all, and upon seeing the contents of her bag, Hunter had let out a long low whistle as if extremely impressed by all that she had. Jemma had frowned, wondering why. It was all the essentials that Jemma needed for her daughter. She wasn’t going to come unprepared), that had somehow shocked Hunter. He had apparently been expecting bread, but Jemma had told him that feeding ducks bread wasn’t actually good for them. He hadn’t objected to that, saying that she was the one who had two doctorates.

But he had taken a step back as Jemma sat on the grass with Peggy in her lap, the two of them throwing the seed to the ducks, the tiny things making small ripples. Peggy couldn’t help the giggles she gave as she watched the ducks bob in the water for the food, Jemma whispering into her ear. He couldn’t hear what she was saying but whatever it was, it was full of love and life and laughter.

He couldn’t help but snap a picture of it on his phone, knowing that it would be something that Jemma would love to have in the future. A memory. He continued to stay back as Peggy and Jemma continued to feed the rest of the ducks, Peggy squealing in delight at the birds. She really was a mixture of her parents, interested in the world around her.

Eventually, they had had to call it a day, Peggy getting somewhat restless. Jemma had explained the she needed a feed and a nap, that today had taken a lot out of her. Hunter had nodded in understanding, saying that his nieces had been like that when they were young. Jemma had blinked in surprise, telling him that she didn’t know he had nieces. He shrugged, saying that he had lost all contact with his family, that as much as he hated it, as much as he missed them, it was for the best. He had to keep them safe, and especially in his line of work, they could be used to get to him and he wasn’t going to get anyone hurt, anyone else killed that he loved. This was something Jemma herself understood.

They had parted ways late afternoon, Hunter meeting her again tomorrow to try and figure out what to do about the team, Jemma finally accepting that she wanted to see them again, that what she wasn’t doing wasn’t healthy, wasn’t fair on Fitz. Peggy was half asleep in her buggy by the time that Jemma got them back into their apartment. She had nearly frozen in the doorway upon seeing the mess that had been left, fearing for a moment that something awful had happened, that someone had broken into her apartment. Then it all came rushing back to her; that no one had broken in because it was her that had left that mess, that she had given up on unpacking and had taken Peggy out instead.

Shaking herself, and laughing at her idiocy, she lifted her daughter out of her buggy. “Do you want dinner?” she asked, the young girl babbling. There was a tiny bit of drool, and using her finger, Jemma wiped it away before it could fall on her daughter’s clothes. “Dinner then nap time?”

Peggy smiled, either agreeing with her mother or just happy to hear her voice and carried her across the room, setting up the record player, the soft sounds of some unknown indie band gently filling the room, before sitting down on the sofa, starting to nurse Peggy.

Once she was full, Peggy let Jemma know, and Jemma began her routine with Peggy to help her settle down for the night, ending it with a story, one about how a knight in shining armour saved the princess from space (and that the princess was more than capable of saving herself, but sometime accepting help isn’t a bad thing), and the two of them coming home, enjoying the sunrise, the beginning of not just a new day but of a new life together.

Peggy had fallen asleep before the end of it, but Jemma still continued, placing a kiss on her daughter’s head, telling her that she would soon meet her daddy, the most important person in the world.

Jemma left the room after that, half closing the door so that her daughter could get some sleep but open enough that Jemma would be able to hear quickly and easily be able to sort out anything that was wrong. The first place she headed was the kitchen, hoping to get something for her dinner, even something light like a salad. She was still getting set up and had planned to do a massive shop at the weekend to get all the essentials, while her parents minded Peggy.

Searching in the cupboards, trying to keep her rummaging on the downlow so as not to disturb her. It was then she thought she heard a soft knock on her door but she shook her head, dismissing it. It was probably her imagination, maybe even something in the cupboard, a tin, hitting the edge the cupboard.

But then it happened again, slightly louder this time, but still, thankfully, not loud enough to wake Peggy thankfully. So she stepped back, wanting to make sure that it wasn’t her that was causing the noise.

And there it was again. Someone was knocking at the door, but Jemma just frowned, slightly confused as to why they would be knocking on her door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, not at this time of day. She slid her phone out of her pockets, checking she hadn’t missed any messages, and she hadn’t, the last one she had received had been nine hours ago; her mum saying that it was no big deal that she was going to mind Peggy at the weekend.

So it couldn’t have been her parents knocking at the door; they wouldn’t be coming around at this time, knowing that Peggy would likely be sleeping, and if for some reason they did need to come round, they would have let her know.

And it wouldn’t have been Hunter, he had said that he would wait until she was ready for her to come round tomorrow.

Maybe it was a neighbour? Someone having simply gotten lost in the building, a family friend needing some help? That had to be it.

Seeing as there was no other way to stop the knocking than to answer the door, Jemma made her way over to it, and unlocked it.

She almost did a double take when she saw who was standing there.

He smiled at her, a smile that she had missed much more than she thought she did. “Hi.”

She couldn’t help but smile back. “Fitz.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FITZ IS BACK! It took me long enough. There's probably only one chapter but if there's enough interest I could write a short epilogue. Thanks for all the support, I'm so glad you're enjoying it!


	5. Chapter 5

He just smiled at her, staring at her and she couldn’t read him, couldn’t read the emotions on his face, the thoughts on his mind. “Jemma,” he said, chewing nervously on his lip, the smile fading now. “Are you okay?”

She let out a long breath from her mouth, trying to figure out what to say, what to do next. She had been gone for so long now that she wasn’t sure what to say, she wasn’t sure what words would be appropriate for this moment in time. She couldn’t even believe that Fitz was here. She knew that her and Hunter would be meeting up the next day to work out what their next move would be, how to inform the team about her situation. But she hadn’t expected Fitz to show up at her door that evening. Hunter must have had something to do with it. He had to. There was no other reason why Fitz could be here.

But she wasn’t complaining, she would never have complained about Fitz showing up at her door. He was here, and he was alive and it wasn’t until now that she realised just how much she had missed him. Slowly, she shook her head, answering his question and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in close to him and burying her head on his shoulder, the first tears falling. “I’m so sorry.” The three words were muffled by the fabric of his shirt and she felt him wrap his arms around her waist, holding her close, providing her the comfort that she so craved. He ran one hand up and down her back, and rocked them back and forth as her cries turned to sobs, a year’s worth of emotions and love coming out of her now.

She felt his lips against her temple, placing a delicate kiss there, which only made her sob louder. “It’s okay,” he murmured into her ear, his breath hot against her ear. “It’s okay.”

After a number of minutes, she looked up at him, taking in his face. Everything about him. She had so much that she wanted to say but there was so little time and she had no idea what she would even say if she found the words so she settled on something else instead, six small and simple words. “Do you want to come in?”

He nodded, a simple single nod and she reluctantly removed herself from his grasp, stepping back to allow him into her apartment. “Sorry about the mess,” she explained, noticing how pathetic her tone was. “I’ve just moved in.” She dipped her head, as though she was embarrassed, her hair falling in curtains around her face.

“S’okay,” he reassured as he stepped into the apartment, and she closed the door behind him, locking it. “It’s nice.”

“It was the best apartment in the area,” she told him. “Close to good schools, the neighbours seem nice enough…”

“And you're close to your parents,” he finished for her.

“Yeah, and that.” She watched him as he walked through, taking in everything. He pottered about slowly before taking a seat on the sofa, smiling at her once again. “I like it.”

She gave him a nervous smile before sitting on the other end of the sofa, curling her legs up under her. “Sorry,” she began, not really knowing where to begin, then she changed her mind, backing out of what she wanted to say. “Do you mind if I order some food in? I’ve not had anything to eat yet.”

He shook his head. “Nah, that’s fine. What about that Chinese place round the corner? Is it still open?”

She knew what place he was talking about, the one they always used to order in when they stayed at her parents’ house. It was in fact still open, and nothing about it had changed much since they last went. “Just like old times?”

“Just like old times,” he replied, the edges of his lips curving up into a small smile.

Jemma pushed herself off the sofa, and stood up. “I’ll get the menu. It’s changed a bit since the last time.” And with that, she hurried out of the living room and towards the kitchen, rifling through a pile of documents until she found the one that she wanted. On the way back to the kitchen, she switched off the record player, the soft sounds no longer filling the apartment. “There you go,” she said as she passed Fitz the menu, taking her place once again on the sofa.

He thanked her, opening it and scanned the items, trying to see if they still had what he always got from the place. And they did. Chicken Chow Mein. He went to pass it to Jemma, but faltered. “Are you getting the usual?”

She let out a soft laugh. “Am I really that obvious?”

“You always said, and I quote ‘ _oh Fitz, the sweet and sour chicken has the perfect batter to sauce to chicken ratio_ ’.” He flashed her a smile and saw that her cheeks were blushed red.

She dipped her head again in embarrassment but it was a different type of embarrassment this time and her laugh was lighter, more like the laugh he had grown to fall in love with over the years. “That’s not what I even sound like.”

“Well, not all my accents are impeccable. Now are we getting sides?”

She cast her gaze upon him again, her eyes flicking up. “What sort of sides?”

“The usual?”

She nodded, knowing that they would end up ordering far too much food in the end, as they normally did but it wouldn’t matter, not really. It would be like old times, something that was safe and comforting, something that was oh so familiar. “Do you want me to order it?”

“Nah,” he informed her, sliding his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. “My treat.”

“Thank you,” she told him but all he could do was nod in reply as he had gotten through to the take away restaurant, and had begun ordering, passing on the details of the food they wanted, and the address before confirming that he would pay at the door. He hung up, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

“I suppose we should talk about this,” Jemma finally said, addressing what hung in the air between them, words unspoken. “Us, everything.” She took in a breath, the very thing shaking. “About why I left. I was pregnant, Fitz. And it was… it was yours. I suppose you know this already, that Hunter told you before you came here. But Mace, he disavowed me. He made me leave and the conditions we agreed on was that I left the team and no one was to know…”

“That’s why I’ve been confined to base since that night?”

She nodded, tears already beginning to form, clinging to her lashes and starting to trail down her face. “I’m so sorry Fitz. But I couldn’t hurt you, not again. Not anymore. I hurt you so much Fitz. I caused you so much pain. I ruined your life so many times. I couldn’t do that, not again.”

He stared at her, eyes wide in shock. “No,” he breathed, taking in her words, his brain processing everything that she had just said. “No, you didn’t ruin my life Jemma.”

She shook her head, refusing to hear his words, refusing to hear anything other than what she believed. “But I have! Look at the Pod, Hydra. Maveth. You did so much for me, sacrificed so much and I just kept ruining your life, wrecking it. And I couldn’t do that again.”

“You think I would have wanted to remain on base if I’d known you were pregnant? You just left, Jemma! You disappeared again and I couldn’t do _anything_ about it. I was terrified that something had happened to you! Mace wouldn’t even tell me if you were alive!” He calmed down, careful about just how loud he was being since he figured that her daughter, _their_ daughter was sleeping now despite Jemma not having said anything.

Her face just crumpled at this, and she broke down completely, her chest heaving as sobs escaped her and Fitz shuffled across the sofa, taking the same spot as her and wrapping his arms around her and holding her close as she sobbed, all her emotions escaping her now. She tried to speak a number of times but her words were just sobs, unable to be deciphered. “It’s okay,” he reassured her, telling her that he was here now, that they were both alive and okay and that no matter what, they were going to work everything out like they normally did.

Together.

Fitz didn’t know how long they remained like that, Jemma sobbing softly into his chest, the sobs softening with each passing minute. It was only the loud knocking on the door that alerted them to the fact that time passed, and with that came the loud sounds of a baby crying.

Instantly, Jemma seemed much more alert, lifting her head from his chest and wiping her tears on her sleeve as the cries continued to echo through the apartment.

“I’ll get the food,” Fitz offered, standing up and Jemma nodded, also rising.

“Thank you,” she whispered again and made her way to the bedroom, only hearing Fitz accepting their dinner and paying for the food in the distance. “Hiya,” she cooed, finding her daughter lying in her cot, her face red and scrunched up as she cried. She reached down, lifting Peggy out of the cot and into her arms, holding her close and placing a kiss on her head. “You’re okay aren’t you.” She swayed, hoping the movements would sooth her but after a while, they didn’t seem to and she just sighed, giving up. It was still early evening, allowing Peggy to come and see her for a while, to be able to see _Fitz_ for a little while. Maybe it would help her sleep better that night. She walked across the room, bouncing Peggy and lifted her [baby snug](https://www.mamasandpapas.com/en-gb/baby-snug-with-play-tray-dusky-rose-brbr/p/4126am600/) from the corner of the room, and carried the both of them into the living room.

Fitz was setting out the cartons of food on the floor, and looked up when he saw the both of them coming in. His eyes went wide and he dropped the bag of prawn crackers that he was holding when he saw his daughter for the first time. “Is that...” he began, unable to finish the question. Jemma nodded, and saw the tears beginning to glisten in those blue eyes that he shared with his daughter.

“Do you want to see her?”

That’s all that she needed to saw as Fitz was on his feet in seconds, making his way across the room and coming to see Peggy. Jemma smiled at them, and without Fitz realising what was truly happening, Jemma was passing him Peggy. It took him all but half a second to adjust himself and then he was holding his daughter. “Fitz,” she smiled, unable to keep the happiness, the pure joy out of her voice at this point. “Meet Peggy Violet FitzSimmons.”

His eyes, if that were even possible, went even wider now, and seemed to be bulging. “Peggy… Violet… FitzSimmons. You named her after my mum? After us?”

Jemma nodded, settling the baby snug down and adjusting it so that Peggy would be able to see both her parents when she was sitting in it whilst they had dinner. “You always said that you wanted your first daughter to share a name with your mum, and she is our child.”

“She’s gorgeous,” he whispered, completely smitten with her and Peggy seemed completely smitten with him as well, wide blue eyes taking in wide blue eyes. “Hiya,” he whispered to her, bouncing her up and down, remembering his cousin telling him that this was something that they liked. “Hiya.”

Peggy gave a babble, reaching out and trying to reach for his face and it took all of his strength not to cry at her. Something he still failed at, a couple of tears making tracks down his face. She really was gorgeous and he could see she had gotten Jemma’s nose. “Do you want dinner, before it gets cold?” Jemma asked, hating that she was taking Fitz away from his daughter after them meeting for just the first time.

He nodded, and reluctantly, he passed Jemma back their daughter and it took Jemma only moments to place her securely and safely into the baby snug, and moments later, Peggy began playing with one of the many toys that were attached to it, a rattling noise echoing from it. “I wasn’t sure about...”

“Oh!” Jemma exclaimed picking up on what he was saying and smiled. “I got bored unpacking. I’ll get them now.”  She pottered back to the kitchen, rummaging through the cardboard box she had half unpacked and lifted out the relevant cutlery and then returning to where Fitz was, holding it up. “Sorted.”

He smiled, as she sat down on the floor, joining him and Peggy, and reached for her dish of chicken, pulling back the lid and taking her first piece. The two of them just ate, having light conversation about anything and everything when Jemma suddenly asked; “What do you want to know about her?”

Fitz almost choked on the chicken he was eating and after a minute, he managed to swallow it. “Pardon?” he croaked.

Jemma shook her head, rolling her eyes. “I know you Fitz. I know you’re curious. You can ask about her, your daughter. Her birthday. Things like that.”

He nodded, and reached up, rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck. “Right, yeah. Yeah. I just didn’t…”

“You’re not pushing, invading anything Fitz. It’s okay.” Jemma cast a glance at Peggy, who was spinning one of the toys round and round, a look of concentration on her face. “She was born at 4.21 in the afternoon on the 29th of December, she’s just about five months now. I stayed with my parents during the pregnancy and it was a healthy one. Nothing, thankfully, went wrong. She was 8 pounds and 2 ounces. We’re moved in here just yesterday, wanting our own space. Her favourite animal is a monkey and she has an appetite like her dad.”

Fitz just stared at Jemma in wonder as she told everything about their daughter. Their daughter. The words were still weird to him, and he couldn’t yet comprehend the fact that he was a father. It was weird and yet somehow, he was excited to go on this adventure. He was sure with Jemma at his side, the two of them could do it like they did everything.

Together.

***

They finished most of their meal half an hour later, Fitz putting the rest of it in the fridge so that it could be re-heated the next day. Jemma had cleaned the knives and forks, and had started to help Peggy settle down for the night when Fitz headed to the door.

Jemma frowned. “Fitz?” she asked, and her voice brought him back. “Where are you going?”

He started at her. “I’ve a hotel, just fifteen minutes around the corner…”

“You can stay, if you want.” She flashed him a smile, Peggy now half asleep in her arms. “I only have the one bed though, we can share, but only if you want?”

“I don’t have anything to sleep in,” he pointed out when a guilty smile crossed Jemma’s face.

“I may have some of your old shirts in my room, if you want to go and get ready, I’ll help this one get to sleep first.” She smiled down at Peggy, who was fighting so hard to keep her eyes open at this point. Jemma stood and made her way to Fitz. “Do you want to say goodnight to daddy?”

Peggy smiled at this, babbling and giggling as Fitz dipped his head down so that he could kiss her on the head. “Night monkey”, he whispered, beaming at her before placing another kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, you going to be a good girl and sleep for mummy?”

Jemma couldn’t help but smile and feel an overwhelming rush of love at this interaction. Fitz looked back up at her and smile. “She says she’s going to be a good girl and sleep tonight.” He looked extremely proud of himself at that moment.

Jemma started at him, a look on her face that seemed to say _oh really?_   “You speak baby?”

He flashed a wicked grin. “I might.”

Jemma shook her head, rolling her eyes, unable to believe him. Pressing her lips to the top of her daughter’s head, she whispered, “Your daddy is so silly, isn’t he? Now c’mon, let’s get you to your bed.”

Fitz watched as she carried Peggy to one of the room and then followed Jemma into the bedroom, looking around and finding a box labelled clothes that had some already thrown around, something that was so un-Jemma like. “Just take what you want,” she informed him, sitting on the seat in the room, rocking Peggy back and forth, singing a soothing lullaby in the hopes of getting her to sleep. Fitz watched her for a number of moments, completely hypnotised by her before grabbing one of his old shirts, an Academy one he thought had went missing during the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and as he made his way out of the room, Jemma looked up briefly. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the cabinet in the bathroom if you want to use that,” was all that she told him before turning her attention back to Peggy who was so close to sleep now.

Upon entering the bathroom, Fitz found that was in fact true, there was a spare toothbrush in the cabinet. And spare shampoo and body wash and condition and anything else she might need. He shook his head. It was such a Jemma thing to do.

When he had finished brushing his teeth, spitting out the last of the toothpaste and looking back in the mirror he had found that Jemma had come into the bathroom and he could see her reflected in the mirror as she took a number of steps forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling her face into his neck.

They remained like that for a number of moments, Jemma on her tip-toes so that she could reach when he spun around. “I wanted to say sorry again,” she told him. “I want to say it again and again and again because what I did, I don’t think I can ever forgive myself. But then I remember that it’s you I’m talking to. Leopold James Fitz. The man I love, the father of my child. And of course you’re going to forgive but it might take me time to forgive myself and as much as I want to say sorry again, I’m not. I’m going to say something else.”

When Jemma didn’t reply, he took this as an invitation to ask her what. What was she going to say instead of I’m sorry?

She cupped his face with one of her hands, as her eyes fluttered shut and she tilted her head close to his, allowing her lips to dance over his, a soft tender kiss.

She pulled apart a mere moment later, far too soon and smiled up at him. “I love you.”

He returned the smile. “I love you too.”

She looked as though she were going to say more, as if she wanted to say more, but a yawn escaped her, a long yawn that showed she was truly tired. “Hey,” he whispered, “Let’s go to bed.”

He guided her back to the bedroom, and the two of them climbed into the bed together, curling up against each other, two pieces of a puzzle fitting together. Jemma’s head came to rest on his chest, and she felt his heart beat, a reassuring thud thud thud that showed he was alive. That he was here with her and Peggy. A family.

And maybe it was a conventional family but it was a family nevertheless.

Her family.

And she wouldn’t change it for anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is, the final chapter. That happy ending I promised. I'm actually heartbroken that this is over but it was so much fun to write. Thank you to everyone that left kudos, bookmarked, commented and read this, it really makes me smile to know that you enjoyed this.
> 
> A special thank you has to go out to stjarna for answering all my many many many pregnancy/baby questions, I could never have done this without you!

**Author's Note:**

> I know some may disagree with Jemma's actions but worry not, I have it all planned. Feel free to leave your thoughts, I hope you enjoyed this!


End file.
